The State of Things
1. My internship ends Friday but I'll continue working part time once school starts. I'm taking some time off over the next few weeks and will be splitting my time between Illinois and Kentucky.
2. Checking out of Murray Place Friday the 6th. This is an open invitation for anyone interested to come witness the checking out process. While 4 against 1 or even 2 is the intended plan, what's a few more people on team us? Bring signs of support-let's make this an all out rally. Feel free to protest too. Seeing as how I no longer live in Carbondale, I haven't seen a good protest in years.
3. I still haven't suscribed to any sort of trash pickup. I'm still taking my trash to Murray Place and tossing it in the dumpster there. Inconvenient as it may be, I feel entitled to use their dumpster because technically I'm still a resident. Lord knows they still boss me around like I still am.
4. Living alone is nice. Rarely am I ever fully dressed while lounging at home these days. In fact, I'm not wearing a shirt right now. Drool or vomit at that thought as you please.
5. Ames came down to visit this weekend and I exposed her to life in Murray. Good times were had by all.
6. OMGWTFBBQ Friday showed me that I still have much to learn about the art of grilling. Thanks to those that came out and a special thanks to Devhead for helping me man the grill, to Nichole for sodas, and to The Hardy's for making a citronella run.
7. I'm now a doggie aunt to Lilbit, LeeAnn's corgi-beagle mix. That dog rocks.
8. Tonight is the first Taco Tuesday since Nichole left town. Out of confusion/sorrow, I ate McDonald's for dinner instead. I'm now officially endorsing McDonald's now. Sparky says eat french fries!
9. I can tell the seasons are getting ready to change and it's great because I love fall...especially down here. Everything is prettier and everything smells nicer in the fall. This goes for people too. Along with fall comes the start of school. I'm both excited about a new school year and sad that this is my last. Growing up/older can really suck sometimes. I'm not ready to leave school and become a contributing member of society!
10. I've been watching the Democratic National Convention this week.
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
I HATE going to the Doctor More Than Ever Now
Yesterday marked my third visit to Primary care in a three month period. I'm averaging about once a month. April was the whole irregular heartbeat thing. A few weeks ago, I dropped a maglight on my foot. Yesterday I went to have my horribly swollen and disfigured tonsils checked out. As if my hatred of being sick and going to the doctor weren't enough incentive to have a healthier home stretch of 2004, it was my experience with the doctor that makes me want to tough out everything I can or just get in the car and drive home for healthcare. For starters, the doctor was a jackass. He asked me two questions (do you have allergies...actually, he just looked at me and said "Allergies?" and asked me how long my throat has been swollen) and glanced into my throat before curtly announcing "Not strep." He tried to give me ceclor twice, which I'm fatally allergic to and acted like it was some big problem when I told him I couldn't take ceclor. He not so nicely asked me what the big problem with ceclor was and I told him "it'll kill me!" And after I told him that, he asked me if I'd taken it before. So I told him that yes I took it and yes, I had to go to the hospital. Then there's long silence and then he tells me the medicines he's giving me-a decongestent, ceclor for the throat infection...I didn't even hear what the third one was because I interrupted him to once again tell me not to give me ceclor. So, to recap this doctor's visit...in the five minutes or less I was there he didn't answer any of my questions, repeatedly tried to give me a drug that makes me have to get medical attention as to not die, and treated me like I was wasting his time.
And Now That I Think about It, Pharmacies Aren't That Great Either
While I'll never be able to hate the pharmacy as much as the doctor's office, I'm no longer as fond of it as I used to be. Last night was the first time I used CVS instead of Wal-Mart. With Wal-Mart, no matter how early in the day you call in a prescription, once you get there to pick it up, the wait is always an hour. I swear the first half hour is to make you want to buy more stuff and that second is to show you who is boss. I don't like the pharmacist at Wal-Mart either! And once the medicine is ready, I mean the requisite 60 minute wait time has passed, there is never anyone behind the counter to ring up the purchase. So figuring in the 5-10 minutes it takes for someone to acknowledge your presence, followed by the next 5 or so minutes required to find the prescription from the rack of bags, and then the checkout procedure, we're closing in on 90 minutes to get a prescription that was called in 6 hours earlier. So, last night I got a clue and had my stuff sent to CVS, which is a bit sunnier. The rude pharmacist was replaced by a cute, floppy haired rx tech. I didn't leave the store with the usual burning desire to boil my hands (see references to "That Unclean Feeling" from being in Wal-Mart). A lady did, however, break wind in my general direction as she walked by (a major wtf moment).
Between the doctor's office and the pharmacy, I now have even more incentive to never be sick again.
Yesterday marked my third visit to Primary care in a three month period. I'm averaging about once a month. April was the whole irregular heartbeat thing. A few weeks ago, I dropped a maglight on my foot. Yesterday I went to have my horribly swollen and disfigured tonsils checked out. As if my hatred of being sick and going to the doctor weren't enough incentive to have a healthier home stretch of 2004, it was my experience with the doctor that makes me want to tough out everything I can or just get in the car and drive home for healthcare. For starters, the doctor was a jackass. He asked me two questions (do you have allergies...actually, he just looked at me and said "Allergies?" and asked me how long my throat has been swollen) and glanced into my throat before curtly announcing "Not strep." He tried to give me ceclor twice, which I'm fatally allergic to and acted like it was some big problem when I told him I couldn't take ceclor. He not so nicely asked me what the big problem with ceclor was and I told him "it'll kill me!" And after I told him that, he asked me if I'd taken it before. So I told him that yes I took it and yes, I had to go to the hospital. Then there's long silence and then he tells me the medicines he's giving me-a decongestent, ceclor for the throat infection...I didn't even hear what the third one was because I interrupted him to once again tell me not to give me ceclor. So, to recap this doctor's visit...in the five minutes or less I was there he didn't answer any of my questions, repeatedly tried to give me a drug that makes me have to get medical attention as to not die, and treated me like I was wasting his time.
And Now That I Think about It, Pharmacies Aren't That Great Either
While I'll never be able to hate the pharmacy as much as the doctor's office, I'm no longer as fond of it as I used to be. Last night was the first time I used CVS instead of Wal-Mart. With Wal-Mart, no matter how early in the day you call in a prescription, once you get there to pick it up, the wait is always an hour. I swear the first half hour is to make you want to buy more stuff and that second is to show you who is boss. I don't like the pharmacist at Wal-Mart either! And once the medicine is ready, I mean the requisite 60 minute wait time has passed, there is never anyone behind the counter to ring up the purchase. So figuring in the 5-10 minutes it takes for someone to acknowledge your presence, followed by the next 5 or so minutes required to find the prescription from the rack of bags, and then the checkout procedure, we're closing in on 90 minutes to get a prescription that was called in 6 hours earlier. So, last night I got a clue and had my stuff sent to CVS, which is a bit sunnier. The rude pharmacist was replaced by a cute, floppy haired rx tech. I didn't leave the store with the usual burning desire to boil my hands (see references to "That Unclean Feeling" from being in Wal-Mart). A lady did, however, break wind in my general direction as she walked by (a major wtf moment).
Between the doctor's office and the pharmacy, I now have even more incentive to never be sick again.
Sunday, July 11, 2004
New Rules: Drinking
1. No sitting in the front seat when being carted around town.
2. No operating computers or other communication devices.
3. No thinking that you are actually relevant in the big scheme of things in any way, shape, or form. This means no climbinbg on top of things and announcing that you have the key to the universe or know how to cure cancer.
4. No making eye contact with other people in the room. There's something about booze that makes it hard to break a gaze and that just freaks people out.
5. No talking. To anyone. About anything. Period.
1. No sitting in the front seat when being carted around town.
2. No operating computers or other communication devices.
3. No thinking that you are actually relevant in the big scheme of things in any way, shape, or form. This means no climbinbg on top of things and announcing that you have the key to the universe or know how to cure cancer.
4. No making eye contact with other people in the room. There's something about booze that makes it hard to break a gaze and that just freaks people out.
5. No talking. To anyone. About anything. Period.
Thursday, July 08, 2004
Changing Perceptions
So the question of the week is this...can a single action by a person change the way you look at him/her? Or was it actually a single action in a long chain of events/actions that did it-that pushed perception over the edge into thinking a person that was once good as gold...is merely an overrated ass? Can someone do something so rude/mean that it shatters any preperceived notion of good in that person? I think, for me anyway, that it's always the little things that do it. The proverbial straw on the camel's back. Disappointing as it may be, in the end I think it's always better to realize a person's true colors early on than...you get the picture. It's just upsetting to take a closer look at something/someone and realize you don't like what you see, even though you wanted to.
Support
Last night I dropped a maglight on my foot and was momentarily convinced my foot was broken. Fortunately I can now walk on it with minimal burning and my toes don't look quite as deformed/flattened, but it will be many shades of black, blue and green for quite some time. I'm lucky that Devin was here to listen to my cry, curse, and complain and get me ice...I'm lucky that he would actually do something and not just stare at me like I was an idiot for dropping something on my foot. I'm glad he didn't freak out or go home so he wouldn't have to hear me complain.
In a Nutshell...
Summarizing the week in 5 points:
1. Having to be at a plant for noise monitoring at 6 in the morning != fun.
2. Three weeks left in internship. Must remember to turn in all paper work.
3. The new place rocks. Pants are optional.
4. Night at Huddle House > *. I'm f*#$%ing Chris Hodes! No, really...
5. Has anyone seen my dishtowels?
So the question of the week is this...can a single action by a person change the way you look at him/her? Or was it actually a single action in a long chain of events/actions that did it-that pushed perception over the edge into thinking a person that was once good as gold...is merely an overrated ass? Can someone do something so rude/mean that it shatters any preperceived notion of good in that person? I think, for me anyway, that it's always the little things that do it. The proverbial straw on the camel's back. Disappointing as it may be, in the end I think it's always better to realize a person's true colors early on than...you get the picture. It's just upsetting to take a closer look at something/someone and realize you don't like what you see, even though you wanted to.
Support
Last night I dropped a maglight on my foot and was momentarily convinced my foot was broken. Fortunately I can now walk on it with minimal burning and my toes don't look quite as deformed/flattened, but it will be many shades of black, blue and green for quite some time. I'm lucky that Devin was here to listen to my cry, curse, and complain and get me ice...I'm lucky that he would actually do something and not just stare at me like I was an idiot for dropping something on my foot. I'm glad he didn't freak out or go home so he wouldn't have to hear me complain.
In a Nutshell...
Summarizing the week in 5 points:
1. Having to be at a plant for noise monitoring at 6 in the morning != fun.
2. Three weeks left in internship. Must remember to turn in all paper work.
3. The new place rocks. Pants are optional.
4. Night at Huddle House > *. I'm f*#$%ing Chris Hodes! No, really...
5. Has anyone seen my dishtowels?
Saturday, July 03, 2004
Move along, There's Nothing to See Here
As of tomorrow night, I will have lived in four different apartments in the past year. One year. Tonight is my last night in this apartment and I've moved so much that it's not even that big of a deal. Since leaving the first place I've lived in Murray, I've been the happiest here. I can only hope that life in the new (still untitled) place will be just as good. It'll be different, but things will be fine.
As of tomorrow night, I will have lived in four different apartments in the past year. One year. Tonight is my last night in this apartment and I've moved so much that it's not even that big of a deal. Since leaving the first place I've lived in Murray, I've been the happiest here. I can only hope that life in the new (still untitled) place will be just as good. It'll be different, but things will be fine.
Thursday, July 01, 2004
The Saga of the Bronson Juvie Van
Somewhere in Marion County, Illinois is a special place. A place where children who cannot attend regular school go to expand their young and eager minds. A place with a teaching staff sensitive enough to meet the educational needs of these exceptional children. A place with security guards trained to handle a situation when one of them feels they absolutely must throw that chair through that window. That place is Bronson Alternative School. And this weekend, I'm using their utility van to move.
The practice of using this van began in August of 2002 when after 2 years in hell, I mean Carbondale, I decided to pack up and head toward greener pastures...blue-er grass. After taking care to reserve a U-Haul in good time and make sure all the paper work was in order (including retaining that all-important receipt), my parents went to collect said U-Haul when as a final "up-yours" by the black hole that is Carbondale...it had been rented to someone else. Regardless of reservation. Driven off the lot. By someone else. Twenty minutes before my parents got there (likely).
Knowing how my mother was on that day, I'm pretty sure she castrated the guy working at U-Haul over the incident.
So after a horrible evening of packing the contents of my duplex into a few vehicles and driving home, Mom and I set out for Carbondale again the next morning with Dad promising to arrive shortly after with a solution to our lack of a vehicle large enough to accomodate a couch, a bed, and some other things
That solution was the Bronson Alternative School Juvie Van.
Technically, it's a utility van-you know, the kind serial killers drive, but without the torture chamber in the back and doors that actually can be opened from the inside. It's just a big, navy blue van with "Bronson Alternative School" written on the side. I'm quite fond of it, actually, and it's really cool that the school lets us use it. That's pretty much the end of the story of the juvie van, but I think it's neat and just wanted to share.
The end.
Somewhere in Marion County, Illinois is a special place. A place where children who cannot attend regular school go to expand their young and eager minds. A place with a teaching staff sensitive enough to meet the educational needs of these exceptional children. A place with security guards trained to handle a situation when one of them feels they absolutely must throw that chair through that window. That place is Bronson Alternative School. And this weekend, I'm using their utility van to move.
The practice of using this van began in August of 2002 when after 2 years in hell, I mean Carbondale, I decided to pack up and head toward greener pastures...blue-er grass. After taking care to reserve a U-Haul in good time and make sure all the paper work was in order (including retaining that all-important receipt), my parents went to collect said U-Haul when as a final "up-yours" by the black hole that is Carbondale...it had been rented to someone else. Regardless of reservation. Driven off the lot. By someone else. Twenty minutes before my parents got there (likely).
Knowing how my mother was on that day, I'm pretty sure she castrated the guy working at U-Haul over the incident.
So after a horrible evening of packing the contents of my duplex into a few vehicles and driving home, Mom and I set out for Carbondale again the next morning with Dad promising to arrive shortly after with a solution to our lack of a vehicle large enough to accomodate a couch, a bed, and some other things
That solution was the Bronson Alternative School Juvie Van.
Technically, it's a utility van-you know, the kind serial killers drive, but without the torture chamber in the back and doors that actually can be opened from the inside. It's just a big, navy blue van with "Bronson Alternative School" written on the side. I'm quite fond of it, actually, and it's really cool that the school lets us use it. That's pretty much the end of the story of the juvie van, but I think it's neat and just wanted to share.
The end.
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
My Days are Numbered!
So here I am, preparing to take my first car load of shizzle over to my new humble abode...
The Rogue Towel
And not a moment too soon, I must say. Today, the MP green police came by for another inspection. After a month of idle threats, they finally made good on their memo. Now if only someone would actually see the bobcat that has supposedly been terrorizing the neighborhood-they wouldn't appear to be such overt liars afterall. But don't tell anyone I said that because there's still a 30 day window for them to toss me in the goulag...
This morning I washed my bathtub...granted, I was taking a shower, but I ran a cloth over any soap scum that had accumulated and across the floor of the tub to gather anything that had settled in the textured-for-traction surface. After my morning routine of later, rinse, condition, rinse, shave (and cut self horribly-that's my explanation for the big bandaid on my thigh), wash, rinse, I dried off and hung the towel over the shower curtain rod as to adhere to my own policy of "no soaking wet towels in the hamper!" Soaking wet towels in the hamper, you see, make for really nasty towels that don't get washed for the better part of the week. Since I've started traveling all over creation for work and putting in long days at the office, I've stopped being so religious, er obsessed with the laundry-now all my towels are washed on the weekends, along with my massive loads of everything else. No more of this doing laundry every to every other day for me. Anyway, I see practicality in letting towels air dry all day before taking them down at night, tossing them in the hamper, and starting the cycle again come morning. But alas, this afternoon when that lone, mighty towel fell into the tub...half in, half out, that caused my tub to cease being clean and begin being a filthy, filthy tub in desperate need of cleaning. If I lacked class, I'd be making a lewd gesture in the direction of the green police headquarters...but then again, just how much less classy would it make me? And who here hasn't done that before?
The Ultimate Fate of the Dead Palm Tree
Some mysterious green, leafy plant is starting to sprout from the remnants of my long deceased palm tree. It doesn't appear to be illicit...but I must admit given the environment where the plant and I used to live, I'm surprised it's not.
However, if I wanted to go ahead and read too much into the new plant (as I tend to do with most things), it makes a pretty cool...metaphor for a new begining.
The Battle Plan
Tonight I start moving items to the new place. Same routine for tomorrow and Friday, so if you're free and have nothing better to do...like America, if you have a strong back, we can use you! Parents are bringing furniture down on Saturday so if you're in town and want to meet Ma and Pa Sparky, or move stuff, come on over. Finally, I'm getting cable tv/internet on Tuesday afternoon, but need someone present. If you're free around 2:30 pm, please volunteer to just chill in my a/c'd place and help yourself to sodas in the fridge...all you have to do is be my representative so that they will install the cable and internet. Volunteers, post in comments.
So here I am, preparing to take my first car load of shizzle over to my new humble abode...
The Rogue Towel
And not a moment too soon, I must say. Today, the MP green police came by for another inspection. After a month of idle threats, they finally made good on their memo. Now if only someone would actually see the bobcat that has supposedly been terrorizing the neighborhood-they wouldn't appear to be such overt liars afterall. But don't tell anyone I said that because there's still a 30 day window for them to toss me in the goulag...
This morning I washed my bathtub...granted, I was taking a shower, but I ran a cloth over any soap scum that had accumulated and across the floor of the tub to gather anything that had settled in the textured-for-traction surface. After my morning routine of later, rinse, condition, rinse, shave (and cut self horribly-that's my explanation for the big bandaid on my thigh), wash, rinse, I dried off and hung the towel over the shower curtain rod as to adhere to my own policy of "no soaking wet towels in the hamper!" Soaking wet towels in the hamper, you see, make for really nasty towels that don't get washed for the better part of the week. Since I've started traveling all over creation for work and putting in long days at the office, I've stopped being so religious, er obsessed with the laundry-now all my towels are washed on the weekends, along with my massive loads of everything else. No more of this doing laundry every to every other day for me. Anyway, I see practicality in letting towels air dry all day before taking them down at night, tossing them in the hamper, and starting the cycle again come morning. But alas, this afternoon when that lone, mighty towel fell into the tub...half in, half out, that caused my tub to cease being clean and begin being a filthy, filthy tub in desperate need of cleaning. If I lacked class, I'd be making a lewd gesture in the direction of the green police headquarters...but then again, just how much less classy would it make me? And who here hasn't done that before?
The Ultimate Fate of the Dead Palm Tree
Some mysterious green, leafy plant is starting to sprout from the remnants of my long deceased palm tree. It doesn't appear to be illicit...but I must admit given the environment where the plant and I used to live, I'm surprised it's not.
However, if I wanted to go ahead and read too much into the new plant (as I tend to do with most things), it makes a pretty cool...metaphor for a new begining.
The Battle Plan
Tonight I start moving items to the new place. Same routine for tomorrow and Friday, so if you're free and have nothing better to do...like America, if you have a strong back, we can use you! Parents are bringing furniture down on Saturday so if you're in town and want to meet Ma and Pa Sparky, or move stuff, come on over. Finally, I'm getting cable tv/internet on Tuesday afternoon, but need someone present. If you're free around 2:30 pm, please volunteer to just chill in my a/c'd place and help yourself to sodas in the fridge...all you have to do is be my representative so that they will install the cable and internet. Volunteers, post in comments.
Friday, June 25, 2004
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
Uhh...
I have stories about my travels home and evening at the mall and two days of work, but overall, I just don't really know what to say. Thought about typing a long...prose about going to the underwear sale at Vicki's and realizing, upon seeing bins and bins of a pair of underwear like a pair I have and like (red and green plaid briefs, for those who want to know) and spacing out for a few minutes while pondering why I wanted that underwear and no one else did...what it was about me that makes me want the underwear no one else does. I could rant about the stupid "Mrs. Celebrity" purses (Mrs. Affleck, Mrs. Kutcher, et al ugh!). I could post here what I've decided I think/feel about a lot of people (it's all positive, don't worry) and how I'll never say it because I'm afraid of alienating my friends and scaring people off because yes, I can be overenthusiastic, but when it's all said and done, does it really matter what I think? Would that make any difference at all? Of course, there's always the old standby: work. I love and loathe my job simultaneously. There's always rambling about how someone can one day just become the epitome of rude and how it doesn't really matter what is said because nothing will change them...not even all the patience in the world. But all of my stories are boring and all of my thoughts...it's nothing that hasn't been pondered before. And what am I going to do about all of this? I'm going to do what any rational, weary, and utterly nerdly girl in Murray on a Tuesday night (or any night, for that matter) would do...I'm going to Wal-Mart.
I have stories about my travels home and evening at the mall and two days of work, but overall, I just don't really know what to say. Thought about typing a long...prose about going to the underwear sale at Vicki's and realizing, upon seeing bins and bins of a pair of underwear like a pair I have and like (red and green plaid briefs, for those who want to know) and spacing out for a few minutes while pondering why I wanted that underwear and no one else did...what it was about me that makes me want the underwear no one else does. I could rant about the stupid "Mrs. Celebrity" purses (Mrs. Affleck, Mrs. Kutcher, et al ugh!). I could post here what I've decided I think/feel about a lot of people (it's all positive, don't worry) and how I'll never say it because I'm afraid of alienating my friends and scaring people off because yes, I can be overenthusiastic, but when it's all said and done, does it really matter what I think? Would that make any difference at all? Of course, there's always the old standby: work. I love and loathe my job simultaneously. There's always rambling about how someone can one day just become the epitome of rude and how it doesn't really matter what is said because nothing will change them...not even all the patience in the world. But all of my stories are boring and all of my thoughts...it's nothing that hasn't been pondered before. And what am I going to do about all of this? I'm going to do what any rational, weary, and utterly nerdly girl in Murray on a Tuesday night (or any night, for that matter) would do...I'm going to Wal-Mart.
Friday, June 18, 2004
Adventures in Air Sampling
This week I've been at a facility in Paducah taking air samples...attaching personal air pumps to employees for wear while working an 8 hour shift and then sending the samples (which are captured on cassettes, in tubes, and in other forms of media)to a lab so they may be analyzed and the findings given to me to interpret so that I can make recommendations to the plant managers on what must be done so that the employees are not overexposed to chemical and physical (because I took noise samples too) hazards. Leave Murray around 5:15 am and return a little less than 12 hours later. I won't bore you with the intricacies of the process, so here are the random highlights of the past few days:
Wednesday: Day One
- Discovered the Little Castle in Lone Oak and their yummy hamburgers. Hamburger + 3 Cups of Coffee = Breakfast of Champions!
- Realized an uncomfortable aspect of air sampling: attaching the pumps to the workers. The best place to put the pumps are on the waistbands of pants because there they are held in place most securely. However, this involves me having to go up to strange men and basically play with their pants. Thank goodness I've become proficient at being able to clip on the air pumps with one hand in one quick movement.
- Amazed at how much waiting is involved in the whole process. Rekindled my love affair with crossword puzzles.
Followed by coming home, kicking off my steel toed boots and staring at the damage they'd done to my feet, followed by Los Portales with Nichole and a scary drugstore encounter with the on-speed and covered in warpaint CVS cashier. "MAY I HELP YOU?!?!?" The answer is "GAAAAAH!"
Tuesday: Day Two
- Heard Kenny Rogers' "What Condition My Condition Was in" (LEBOWSKI!!!) on the way to work and decided the day was going to rock.
- Got a breakfast burrito from McDonalds and drove over my first curb of the day.
- Ran to the CVS in Lone Oak during lunch hour to get book of crossword puzzles and made the impulse buy of a stick of deodorant because I smelled so darned bad from sitting in a hot and humid office and walking around the facility. Sat in the safetymobile (company truck) and applied under shirt with the a/c hitting me full blast. Drove over my second, third, and fourth curbs of the day. Had Wendy's for lunch...I drove over the curbs (and a sidewalk) there too.
Wednesday: Day Three
- Cinnamon raisin biscuit from Hardees followed by wrong turn and somehow ending up on the way to the airport. Saw some nice houses though.
- Wandered around KMart over lunch because I wanted some gum and bandaids...I've been rocking out to the Don Henley tape I found in the console of the safetymobile Tuesday afternoon. Feeling the need for some new tunes and figuring I'd be taking a few more trips in the safetymobile this summer, I raided the cassette tape bin and emerged with some Creedence and Three Dog Night.
- Finished the day by driving over one last curb with the safetymobile after filling it with gasoline.
So, in conclusion...I dig air sampling, the safetymobile doesn't make tight turns (and likes the curb) and I'm really, really tired. Tomorrow I drive home to Illinois and return to Murray on Sunday afternoon. Projected mileage from Monday to (this coming) Monday: ~800 miles.
This week I've been at a facility in Paducah taking air samples...attaching personal air pumps to employees for wear while working an 8 hour shift and then sending the samples (which are captured on cassettes, in tubes, and in other forms of media)to a lab so they may be analyzed and the findings given to me to interpret so that I can make recommendations to the plant managers on what must be done so that the employees are not overexposed to chemical and physical (because I took noise samples too) hazards. Leave Murray around 5:15 am and return a little less than 12 hours later. I won't bore you with the intricacies of the process, so here are the random highlights of the past few days:
Wednesday: Day One
- Discovered the Little Castle in Lone Oak and their yummy hamburgers. Hamburger + 3 Cups of Coffee = Breakfast of Champions!
- Realized an uncomfortable aspect of air sampling: attaching the pumps to the workers. The best place to put the pumps are on the waistbands of pants because there they are held in place most securely. However, this involves me having to go up to strange men and basically play with their pants. Thank goodness I've become proficient at being able to clip on the air pumps with one hand in one quick movement.
- Amazed at how much waiting is involved in the whole process. Rekindled my love affair with crossword puzzles.
Followed by coming home, kicking off my steel toed boots and staring at the damage they'd done to my feet, followed by Los Portales with Nichole and a scary drugstore encounter with the on-speed and covered in warpaint CVS cashier. "MAY I HELP YOU?!?!?" The answer is "GAAAAAH!"
Tuesday: Day Two
- Heard Kenny Rogers' "What Condition My Condition Was in" (LEBOWSKI!!!) on the way to work and decided the day was going to rock.
- Got a breakfast burrito from McDonalds and drove over my first curb of the day.
- Ran to the CVS in Lone Oak during lunch hour to get book of crossword puzzles and made the impulse buy of a stick of deodorant because I smelled so darned bad from sitting in a hot and humid office and walking around the facility. Sat in the safetymobile (company truck) and applied under shirt with the a/c hitting me full blast. Drove over my second, third, and fourth curbs of the day. Had Wendy's for lunch...I drove over the curbs (and a sidewalk) there too.
Wednesday: Day Three
- Cinnamon raisin biscuit from Hardees followed by wrong turn and somehow ending up on the way to the airport. Saw some nice houses though.
- Wandered around KMart over lunch because I wanted some gum and bandaids...I've been rocking out to the Don Henley tape I found in the console of the safetymobile Tuesday afternoon. Feeling the need for some new tunes and figuring I'd be taking a few more trips in the safetymobile this summer, I raided the cassette tape bin and emerged with some Creedence and Three Dog Night.
- Finished the day by driving over one last curb with the safetymobile after filling it with gasoline.
So, in conclusion...I dig air sampling, the safetymobile doesn't make tight turns (and likes the curb) and I'm really, really tired. Tomorrow I drive home to Illinois and return to Murray on Sunday afternoon. Projected mileage from Monday to (this coming) Monday: ~800 miles.
Sunday, June 13, 2004
Ten Things I'm Currently Digging
1. "Float On" by Modest Mouse. I've been listening to this song on a continuous loop for the last 10 minutes or so. Thinking about getting the album.
2. Old School Zelda on Gameboy Advance. Picked up the last copy from Murray Wal-Mart on Wednesday and I've been playing it often since. In a little while, it'll be time to storm Death Mountain. Wish me luck.
3. Marriage. Went to two weddings yesterday and have decided that perhaps matrimony isn't for losers. I used to have this marriage = death mentality...that when you said your vows, you were pretty much hanging up your spurs. (Based on past experiences with relationships) I used to be in the mindset that whoever I marry would run off with some other (inferior) woman and never let me see the dog again (again). But seeing all the love in that room last night as my friends took their vows made me realize that it's worth being blind to all the things that could go wrong and only seeing what's right and taking life as it comes. And if anything else...you get to throw a really good party.
4. Raspberry Scented Grooming Products. Dude-I smell delicious! Seriously, smell me.
5. Meat-based salads from Kroger Deli. Chicken salad = peace. Ham salad = love.
6. Packing. If all else fails, it's a good excuse for finding everything I've misplaced...and tossing out/giving away the old and obtaining fresh, sexy, and new.
7. Having longer and darker hair. I feel softer and more...noticeable. I can't stop touching my hair.
8. Aqua Teen Hunger Force. Watching this on adult swim has become something to look forward to. I'm contemplating getting a boxed set so I won't have to stay up as late to watch.
9. Coca Cola Classic. I want one now, actually...over ice and in a paper cup. So basically, I'm seeking one of those 32 oz for 59 cent cokes from McD's.
10. Bic (Medium) Ball Point Pens (Black). I've been doodling with one all weekend and it's great because the pen writes nicely and the cap is great for chewing!
Feel free to comment on my choices and share the things you like.
Also, if any one wants to take a peek at my new place, just give a holla. I'm also currently taking suggestions for a name for my new abode.
1. "Float On" by Modest Mouse. I've been listening to this song on a continuous loop for the last 10 minutes or so. Thinking about getting the album.
2. Old School Zelda on Gameboy Advance. Picked up the last copy from Murray Wal-Mart on Wednesday and I've been playing it often since. In a little while, it'll be time to storm Death Mountain. Wish me luck.
3. Marriage. Went to two weddings yesterday and have decided that perhaps matrimony isn't for losers. I used to have this marriage = death mentality...that when you said your vows, you were pretty much hanging up your spurs. (Based on past experiences with relationships) I used to be in the mindset that whoever I marry would run off with some other (inferior) woman and never let me see the dog again (again). But seeing all the love in that room last night as my friends took their vows made me realize that it's worth being blind to all the things that could go wrong and only seeing what's right and taking life as it comes. And if anything else...you get to throw a really good party.
4. Raspberry Scented Grooming Products. Dude-I smell delicious! Seriously, smell me.
5. Meat-based salads from Kroger Deli. Chicken salad = peace. Ham salad = love.
6. Packing. If all else fails, it's a good excuse for finding everything I've misplaced...and tossing out/giving away the old and obtaining fresh, sexy, and new.
7. Having longer and darker hair. I feel softer and more...noticeable. I can't stop touching my hair.
8. Aqua Teen Hunger Force. Watching this on adult swim has become something to look forward to. I'm contemplating getting a boxed set so I won't have to stay up as late to watch.
9. Coca Cola Classic. I want one now, actually...over ice and in a paper cup. So basically, I'm seeking one of those 32 oz for 59 cent cokes from McD's.
10. Bic (Medium) Ball Point Pens (Black). I've been doodling with one all weekend and it's great because the pen writes nicely and the cap is great for chewing!
Feel free to comment on my choices and share the things you like.
Also, if any one wants to take a peek at my new place, just give a holla. I'm also currently taking suggestions for a name for my new abode.
Saturday, June 12, 2004
Sound fX
Raise your hand if you remember when the Fx channel was born, circa 1994! In the first 1 1/2-2 years of the fX channel, all shows were original programming filmed live from an apartment in New York City. "Television made fresh daily!" Sound Fx aired nightly (save Saturday and Sunday) around 10 pm and was hosted by some now famous people (Orlando Jones, Jeff Probst). This quirky little show featured interviews, music videos, album reviews, and guest performances by some really cool acts and acts that went on to make it pretty big. Shortly after the show was cancelled (?!?) in the summer of 1995, I started taping the final 2 week run off the television. I really wish this show were still around and yes, I actually shed a tear when I discovered that my favorite tv show was doomed because it was so cool and different from anything else on tv that it was very frustrating to see it go.
Raise your hand if you remember when the Fx channel was born, circa 1994! In the first 1 1/2-2 years of the fX channel, all shows were original programming filmed live from an apartment in New York City. "Television made fresh daily!" Sound Fx aired nightly (save Saturday and Sunday) around 10 pm and was hosted by some now famous people (Orlando Jones, Jeff Probst). This quirky little show featured interviews, music videos, album reviews, and guest performances by some really cool acts and acts that went on to make it pretty big. Shortly after the show was cancelled (?!?) in the summer of 1995, I started taping the final 2 week run off the television. I really wish this show were still around and yes, I actually shed a tear when I discovered that my favorite tv show was doomed because it was so cool and different from anything else on tv that it was very frustrating to see it go.
Life is a Foreign Film without Subtitles
Another one of those late nights in Murray when my mind starts running 60 miles a minute just as everyone goes to bed. When awake though very tired, I enter this odd state of alertness and introspectiveness marked by the propensity toward spouting out random philosophical bits, which is fun when other people are around...not so much when all alone.
About the foreign film metaphor...one of those random thoughts-a billboard on the side of the highway of my mind...even when you don't know what the hell is going on because you just don't understand life, it can still be beautiful and enjoyable. Conversely, it can be the feeling that those around you just don't speak your language. Though frustrating, it makes the joy of finding someone who does all that more meaningful...it's as if you've been overseas for months and happen upon a fellow American/English speaker somewhere. Then there's always asimilation-just letting the world absorb you until you find yourself in Rome...acting um, Roman. Or, perhaps it's just an overly abstract way of saying that sometimes you can feel so alone, even when other people are there.
Another one of those late nights in Murray when my mind starts running 60 miles a minute just as everyone goes to bed. When awake though very tired, I enter this odd state of alertness and introspectiveness marked by the propensity toward spouting out random philosophical bits, which is fun when other people are around...not so much when all alone.
About the foreign film metaphor...one of those random thoughts-a billboard on the side of the highway of my mind...even when you don't know what the hell is going on because you just don't understand life, it can still be beautiful and enjoyable. Conversely, it can be the feeling that those around you just don't speak your language. Though frustrating, it makes the joy of finding someone who does all that more meaningful...it's as if you've been overseas for months and happen upon a fellow American/English speaker somewhere. Then there's always asimilation-just letting the world absorb you until you find yourself in Rome...acting um, Roman. Or, perhaps it's just an overly abstract way of saying that sometimes you can feel so alone, even when other people are there.
Thursday, June 03, 2004
Home 2004-2005
Central heat and air. Dishwasher. Washer and dryer. Self-cleaning oven. Spacious bathroom. Cavernous bedroom. Walk-in closet. Wooden deck underneath trees.
Sounds nice, eh? That's my new place. I've got the keys, so I'll be glad to show you. I can't put a stitch of furniture in the place until July 1, but when it's time to actually move in, the carpets will have been cleaned, the place spruced up nicely, and a few minor repairs/adjustments made. The baseboard that was broken yesterday has already been fixed today. I really hope this works out well...both the apartment and living on my own once more. Granted, it's only been a year I've been sharing living space with other people, but in that year, it's been nice to have someone tangible to talk to when I don't want to spend time in the company of myself. My door will be open (when I'm home), so just come on over (call ahead so I can put on some pants).
The First Week of June: A Week in Review
Tuesday: Used my lunch hour to call about apartments. Within 6 hours, I had found my home base for the next year. Went to Los with Devin and requested my $3 change in singles, thus further gaining sympathy from the waitstaff there. Seriously, I can't go to Los without doing/saying something utterly stupid anymore. I guess that makes me a good customer though: I'm a fairly regular customer that tips and I'm entertaining. Fell asleep around 10 pm and woke up at 6:30 the next morning. 8 hours of sleep on a weeknight...a rarity.
Wednesday: Obtained keys to apartment and took care of necessary paperwork for the place. Took one of my final sweet, sweet naps on the sleep-trap couches, then ate a sandwich and watched a Harry Potter movie with Devin #2 and The Petersens. Then, we watched Kangaroo Jack, starring John Gibson, and sat mesmerized by the wonder that was...Kangaroo Jack. Seriously, the whole time we were watching it, we kept commenting on the fact that we were actually watching Kangaroo Jack. And to be honest...silly as it was, it wasn't that bad. And I'm pretty sure I caught Devin (#1, for those keeping score) enjoying it as well (don't deny it-you know you did!).
Thursday: Spent the morning scrubbing boots, gloves, and hazmat suits in the rain. Came home, ate a salad, took a hot shower, went back to work. I'll be glad when the equipment trailer is finished. Fell asleep in the chair while watching tv with Devin #2 and then took two phone calls while half asleep. Dinner at Bees, with enough left over for lunch tomorrow. Score.
But for now...Snickers Blizzard and Family Guy.
Central heat and air. Dishwasher. Washer and dryer. Self-cleaning oven. Spacious bathroom. Cavernous bedroom. Walk-in closet. Wooden deck underneath trees.
Sounds nice, eh? That's my new place. I've got the keys, so I'll be glad to show you. I can't put a stitch of furniture in the place until July 1, but when it's time to actually move in, the carpets will have been cleaned, the place spruced up nicely, and a few minor repairs/adjustments made. The baseboard that was broken yesterday has already been fixed today. I really hope this works out well...both the apartment and living on my own once more. Granted, it's only been a year I've been sharing living space with other people, but in that year, it's been nice to have someone tangible to talk to when I don't want to spend time in the company of myself. My door will be open (when I'm home), so just come on over (call ahead so I can put on some pants).
The First Week of June: A Week in Review
Tuesday: Used my lunch hour to call about apartments. Within 6 hours, I had found my home base for the next year. Went to Los with Devin and requested my $3 change in singles, thus further gaining sympathy from the waitstaff there. Seriously, I can't go to Los without doing/saying something utterly stupid anymore. I guess that makes me a good customer though: I'm a fairly regular customer that tips and I'm entertaining. Fell asleep around 10 pm and woke up at 6:30 the next morning. 8 hours of sleep on a weeknight...a rarity.
Wednesday: Obtained keys to apartment and took care of necessary paperwork for the place. Took one of my final sweet, sweet naps on the sleep-trap couches, then ate a sandwich and watched a Harry Potter movie with Devin #2 and The Petersens. Then, we watched Kangaroo Jack, starring John Gibson, and sat mesmerized by the wonder that was...Kangaroo Jack. Seriously, the whole time we were watching it, we kept commenting on the fact that we were actually watching Kangaroo Jack. And to be honest...silly as it was, it wasn't that bad. And I'm pretty sure I caught Devin (#1, for those keeping score) enjoying it as well (don't deny it-you know you did!).
Thursday: Spent the morning scrubbing boots, gloves, and hazmat suits in the rain. Came home, ate a salad, took a hot shower, went back to work. I'll be glad when the equipment trailer is finished. Fell asleep in the chair while watching tv with Devin #2 and then took two phone calls while half asleep. Dinner at Bees, with enough left over for lunch tomorrow. Score.
But for now...Snickers Blizzard and Family Guy.
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
Memorial Day Weekend Wrap-up
Sunday I partook in a typical Illinois Memorial Day weekend activity: grilling out with the family and then watching a tornado blow through town. Then, after the first storm passed and before the second one hit, we hopped in the car and drove around town surveying the damage.
This weekend was quite good and featured a trip to the site of the soon to be new family homestead. Met the neighbors and played with their dogs, Beth the miniature collie and Max the pembroke welsh corgi. CORGI!!! After playing with the dog, Mom wants a corgi now too. After all of that, we went to Ruby Tuesday in Litchfield and ate a bunch of chicken wings. So Saturday in a nutshell: new plot of land, corgis, wings. All the makings of a good day. I was sent back to Murray with a big bag full of grilled goodies and fruit, so by the end of the week, I may be recruiting people to help eat all of it. I've already informed Devin that he'll be eating bbq'd pork steaks this week for lunch (meaning, if you're reading this from work, you should be gnawing on a pork steak as you read).
This Week
Starting Tuesday, I'm calling around town to find a new place to call home next year. I really hope my first choice place is open because I already have decorated and moved into the place in my mind. This place will feature a washer and dryer, a dishwasher, and central heating and air conditioning...all the things I said I wanted in a place. Thanks to Gibson, this place will also feature a picture of Don Johnson. I haven't mentally made a place for him yet, but if you have any suggestions where to place him, please let me know.
I'm also considering getting some sort of rug for the place. You know...something to tie the room together.
It's All been Done before
Watching Futurama and saw yet another reference to those anti-littering commercials of the 80s where a can hits the feet of Eagle Eyes Cody and he sheds a tear. I rest my case. It's all been done before. All of it. Every single bit.
And with that, I'm going to bed...that I've done before as well.
Sunday I partook in a typical Illinois Memorial Day weekend activity: grilling out with the family and then watching a tornado blow through town. Then, after the first storm passed and before the second one hit, we hopped in the car and drove around town surveying the damage.
This weekend was quite good and featured a trip to the site of the soon to be new family homestead. Met the neighbors and played with their dogs, Beth the miniature collie and Max the pembroke welsh corgi. CORGI!!! After playing with the dog, Mom wants a corgi now too. After all of that, we went to Ruby Tuesday in Litchfield and ate a bunch of chicken wings. So Saturday in a nutshell: new plot of land, corgis, wings. All the makings of a good day. I was sent back to Murray with a big bag full of grilled goodies and fruit, so by the end of the week, I may be recruiting people to help eat all of it. I've already informed Devin that he'll be eating bbq'd pork steaks this week for lunch (meaning, if you're reading this from work, you should be gnawing on a pork steak as you read).
This Week
Starting Tuesday, I'm calling around town to find a new place to call home next year. I really hope my first choice place is open because I already have decorated and moved into the place in my mind. This place will feature a washer and dryer, a dishwasher, and central heating and air conditioning...all the things I said I wanted in a place. Thanks to Gibson, this place will also feature a picture of Don Johnson. I haven't mentally made a place for him yet, but if you have any suggestions where to place him, please let me know.
I'm also considering getting some sort of rug for the place. You know...something to tie the room together.
It's All been Done before
Watching Futurama and saw yet another reference to those anti-littering commercials of the 80s where a can hits the feet of Eagle Eyes Cody and he sheds a tear. I rest my case. It's all been done before. All of it. Every single bit.
And with that, I'm going to bed...that I've done before as well.
Sunday, May 30, 2004
If These Goths Could Talk
It's graduation time again, which means the annual posting of the senior class photos in the Union Banner (aka "Bummer"), my soon-to-be former hometown's weekly newspaper. Pictures from three of the four (because the western-most school in the county just doesn't count)county high schools are featured in the fold out special. The kids in the Catholic school portion always look (for the most part) bright eyed and clean scrubbed. My school has this (wise) tradition of taking the pictures at school on picture day with a standard uniform of tux tops and jackets for boys and those black velvet drapes (like we wear in our composite pics...if I had known then what I know now, I would have started wearing pearls for portraits sooner) for the girls. It just looks better that way. The other school, Central, has the "roughest" looking kids in the county. Included in this years poses/looks...Central style...a guy mid-deerhunt (ie-bow pulled back, aiming, ready to shoot), several greasy people with faraway looks, an angry boy scowling at the camera ("I'm so angry to be in high school...I'm even angrier to be graduating!"), and several blonde girls with roots and low cut tops "making love to the camera."
The best one, though, by far was this Goth Girl staring at the camera with this look of contempt and frustration. I can just hear her screaming at me now "You could never understand me! I'm 3,000 years old!"
Same Video, Different Song
Watching MTV right now...the last three videos (in a row) played all had the same look/feel to them. The look of pictures pasted onto a background. Didn't catch the first band, the second was Bumblebeez81(?) and the last one Modest Mouse. Watch these videos and then tell me if you agree.
It's graduation time again, which means the annual posting of the senior class photos in the Union Banner (aka "Bummer"), my soon-to-be former hometown's weekly newspaper. Pictures from three of the four (because the western-most school in the county just doesn't count)county high schools are featured in the fold out special. The kids in the Catholic school portion always look (for the most part) bright eyed and clean scrubbed. My school has this (wise) tradition of taking the pictures at school on picture day with a standard uniform of tux tops and jackets for boys and those black velvet drapes (like we wear in our composite pics...if I had known then what I know now, I would have started wearing pearls for portraits sooner) for the girls. It just looks better that way. The other school, Central, has the "roughest" looking kids in the county. Included in this years poses/looks...Central style...a guy mid-deerhunt (ie-bow pulled back, aiming, ready to shoot), several greasy people with faraway looks, an angry boy scowling at the camera ("I'm so angry to be in high school...I'm even angrier to be graduating!"), and several blonde girls with roots and low cut tops "making love to the camera."
The best one, though, by far was this Goth Girl staring at the camera with this look of contempt and frustration. I can just hear her screaming at me now "You could never understand me! I'm 3,000 years old!"
Same Video, Different Song
Watching MTV right now...the last three videos (in a row) played all had the same look/feel to them. The look of pictures pasted onto a background. Didn't catch the first band, the second was Bumblebeez81(?) and the last one Modest Mouse. Watch these videos and then tell me if you agree.
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
I Never Cease to be Amazed by Grocery Stores
Today while in Metropolis, home of Superman, I grabbed some lunch from a grocery store and discovered that you can just go up to the counter of the deli and have them make you a sandwich. I don't know why this concept was so surprising and foreign, having come from the greater St. Louis area where seemingly every Schnucks or Dierbergs featured some sort of in-store dining, but I was thrown for a loop when able to go up to the lady that was slicing meat and tell her I wanted a turkey sandwich with a slice of pepper jack cheese. And she didn't just throw the sandwich together-no sir! She loaded that thing up with freshly sliced turkey and put a thin slice of pepper jack on there that was big enough to cover the entire sandwich. There was pepper jack goodness in every bite. And you can apparently do this in most grocery stores too. I think my new passion du jour shall now be eating grocery store sandwiches.
Walking Wisdom
Serious thought should be given to recording my coversations with Nichole on our nightly walks. Nary a mile goes by without one of us spouting out words of wisdom. Whether it be musing on how meeting and getting to know someone over the internet is more "true" because you get to know the essence of a person without all the stuff about appearance or carriage coming into play. Not that appearance and carriage aren't important components of attraction, but when it comes to simply liking another human being...it could be argued that all that matters is essence.
Another nugget of wisdom for the evening was Nichole's analogy of her car to a sexually diseased pretty girl. "She seems like a lot of fun, but I wouldn't want to ride her."
I'm working up to distance running...tonight I ran the length of the football field four times, which doesn't sound like much but hey, you go a long time without heavy duty excercise and then run a footbal field at full speed four times. It'll make you stop, put your hands on your knees and make some sort of awful noise in front of people walking. I swear the first vomitous sound was for comedic effect. That second one was my out-of-shape body going "well maybe that's not such a bad idea."
McDonald's Breakfast Burritos
I fear my affair with the breakfast burrito is coming to an end. It really wasn't that good of a relationship when you think about it. How can you be satisfied with something you're left wanting more of and it's only available certain hours of the day. Granted, it's goodness has helped me through many a mid-morning slump and the joy of waking up early enough to actually get one before class or work was unparalleled at the time. However, this morning when I took a bite of my first one (yeah, I ate two of them, what's it to you?!?) and found it to be cold, I felt a twinge of sadness and regret. Has this how I've been spending my mornings? Watching the clock while typing away, knowing that my window to obtain one was slowly closing? Rolling over in bed on a weekend morning and feeling happy to know I hadn't missed my chance to get one, but sad that it never comes to me. Alas, I'm hooked and I cannot escape. Perhaps some day I'll see the error of my ways and put down my car keys and settle in for the morning with a bowl of oatmeal.
Driving Large Cars
I'm so glad my first car was a 1992 Crown Vic. For starters, that car was really cool because it was big and fast and comfortable. It was a great road car. And even though it didn't make my high school peers jealous, sure's hell many a senior citizen drooled when I drove by with the windows down and my 60s/70s classic rock blaring. I learned to whip that car in and out of tight quarters and how to back it with some skills. Today I realized how much learning to drive a massive car paid off when trying to back an F-150 up to a meeting hall and then through a series of gates guarded by armed guards. If I had to learn to drive say, a Ford Festiva (or something like that), I would have been terrified and thought "if I mess up, they will shoot me!" But instead, I (carefully) put that truck where it needed to be, thinking to myself "it's okay, folks, my first car was a crown vic."
Come to think of it, when interviewing for that Student Ambassador job, when asked about my willingness to learn to drive school vans (I think they're Dodge Ram Vans...they're massive), I replied "If I can drive my Mom's Crown Vic, I think I can handle a van."
Today while in Metropolis, home of Superman, I grabbed some lunch from a grocery store and discovered that you can just go up to the counter of the deli and have them make you a sandwich. I don't know why this concept was so surprising and foreign, having come from the greater St. Louis area where seemingly every Schnucks or Dierbergs featured some sort of in-store dining, but I was thrown for a loop when able to go up to the lady that was slicing meat and tell her I wanted a turkey sandwich with a slice of pepper jack cheese. And she didn't just throw the sandwich together-no sir! She loaded that thing up with freshly sliced turkey and put a thin slice of pepper jack on there that was big enough to cover the entire sandwich. There was pepper jack goodness in every bite. And you can apparently do this in most grocery stores too. I think my new passion du jour shall now be eating grocery store sandwiches.
Walking Wisdom
Serious thought should be given to recording my coversations with Nichole on our nightly walks. Nary a mile goes by without one of us spouting out words of wisdom. Whether it be musing on how meeting and getting to know someone over the internet is more "true" because you get to know the essence of a person without all the stuff about appearance or carriage coming into play. Not that appearance and carriage aren't important components of attraction, but when it comes to simply liking another human being...it could be argued that all that matters is essence.
Another nugget of wisdom for the evening was Nichole's analogy of her car to a sexually diseased pretty girl. "She seems like a lot of fun, but I wouldn't want to ride her."
I'm working up to distance running...tonight I ran the length of the football field four times, which doesn't sound like much but hey, you go a long time without heavy duty excercise and then run a footbal field at full speed four times. It'll make you stop, put your hands on your knees and make some sort of awful noise in front of people walking. I swear the first vomitous sound was for comedic effect. That second one was my out-of-shape body going "well maybe that's not such a bad idea."
McDonald's Breakfast Burritos
I fear my affair with the breakfast burrito is coming to an end. It really wasn't that good of a relationship when you think about it. How can you be satisfied with something you're left wanting more of and it's only available certain hours of the day. Granted, it's goodness has helped me through many a mid-morning slump and the joy of waking up early enough to actually get one before class or work was unparalleled at the time. However, this morning when I took a bite of my first one (yeah, I ate two of them, what's it to you?!?) and found it to be cold, I felt a twinge of sadness and regret. Has this how I've been spending my mornings? Watching the clock while typing away, knowing that my window to obtain one was slowly closing? Rolling over in bed on a weekend morning and feeling happy to know I hadn't missed my chance to get one, but sad that it never comes to me. Alas, I'm hooked and I cannot escape. Perhaps some day I'll see the error of my ways and put down my car keys and settle in for the morning with a bowl of oatmeal.
Driving Large Cars
I'm so glad my first car was a 1992 Crown Vic. For starters, that car was really cool because it was big and fast and comfortable. It was a great road car. And even though it didn't make my high school peers jealous, sure's hell many a senior citizen drooled when I drove by with the windows down and my 60s/70s classic rock blaring. I learned to whip that car in and out of tight quarters and how to back it with some skills. Today I realized how much learning to drive a massive car paid off when trying to back an F-150 up to a meeting hall and then through a series of gates guarded by armed guards. If I had to learn to drive say, a Ford Festiva (or something like that), I would have been terrified and thought "if I mess up, they will shoot me!" But instead, I (carefully) put that truck where it needed to be, thinking to myself "it's okay, folks, my first car was a crown vic."
Come to think of it, when interviewing for that Student Ambassador job, when asked about my willingness to learn to drive school vans (I think they're Dodge Ram Vans...they're massive), I replied "If I can drive my Mom's Crown Vic, I think I can handle a van."
For the Record...
Here is my official statement for those of you who have questioned/commented (not so nicely in some cases) on my decision to get a place of my own next year:
Not that it's any of your business, but I'm at a time in my life where I want space. After I'm finished with school and out on my own, it's just a matter of time before I'm married with a family and I'll never again have a space that is mine and only mine. With work and school and other activities in life, I'm around people nearly every hour of the day and sometimes I just want to close the doors to the world around me and sit on the couch and eat take-out Chinese in my underwear or be able to leave clean towels in the dryer for the better part of the week. If I live alone, I can do these things. Living with the guys for the last 6 months has been a great experience. I've grown to love and appreciate many things about my funny, dynamic and cool roommates, but the fact of the matter is...it's simply time to move on and close this wonderful chapter of my life. So quit your badgering and quit your speculations. I've never perceived myself that great of fodder for coffee talk...besides, to quote my prison yard song "get the f*** out my face, get the f*** out my biznatch"
Here is my official statement for those of you who have questioned/commented (not so nicely in some cases) on my decision to get a place of my own next year:
Not that it's any of your business, but I'm at a time in my life where I want space. After I'm finished with school and out on my own, it's just a matter of time before I'm married with a family and I'll never again have a space that is mine and only mine. With work and school and other activities in life, I'm around people nearly every hour of the day and sometimes I just want to close the doors to the world around me and sit on the couch and eat take-out Chinese in my underwear or be able to leave clean towels in the dryer for the better part of the week. If I live alone, I can do these things. Living with the guys for the last 6 months has been a great experience. I've grown to love and appreciate many things about my funny, dynamic and cool roommates, but the fact of the matter is...it's simply time to move on and close this wonderful chapter of my life. So quit your badgering and quit your speculations. I've never perceived myself that great of fodder for coffee talk...besides, to quote my prison yard song "get the f*** out my face, get the f*** out my biznatch"
Sunday, May 23, 2004
Play-Dough...Oh the Possibilities
The other day while going through some plug and patch kits, I ran across some cans of play dough (which are used for training exercises) and was overtaken by the urge to play with it. Being the only person in the office and experiencing a slow afternoon, I took my chance and spent the next 5-10 minutes quickly and skillfully sculpting a human head out of the funny-smelling blue mound of dough. My finished result bore a strong resemblance to George Washington which is odd considering when I first started kneading the dough, I had a picture of a kitty cat in my head. Founding father...kitty cat...it's amazing how ideas can evolve within a matter of minutes.
I guess that's what I like so much about play dough and clay and other things you can knead and sculpt and use to create whatever the mind can fathom. When you have a clump of some sort of molding compound...that's not a toy in front of you, that's possibilities. Taking what you have and making it into whatever you want it to be. That's often how life is. You have to take what you have in front of you and figure out how you're going to craft it into what is the most satisfying end result. And I love that. I'm in love with possibilities.
Possibilities are infinite and multidimensional. A challenge. Possibility is changing courses mid-journey (and ideally, without consquence). Or are the possibilities so enticing because you don't actually know how the end result will be and it's the mystery of it all that makes the sale. It's the mystery and the curiousity of how things could/would/should...which could probably end up falling into that "grass is always greener..." mentality. Is that possibility over there newer, fresher, and sexier than the one I've been exploring right here.
Of course, possibilities have a dark side. I could rob a bank to fund my need for adventure and material things. I could try to start something on the side with that intriguing (for the record, I'll forever loathe this word but am using it for a lack of a better one) fellow over there. I could kick that annoying person in the teeth. But when considering the possibilities, feasability and reality must be consdidered as well. And the fact of the matter is, I'd get caught robbing that bank, I'm not his type, and I'm likely useless in a fight. So, for today at least (and before I actually type the words "Life is like a Ball of Playdough"), I'll explore the simple possibilities...like cleaning my room, finishing my internship, and deciding where to spend my last year in Murray. But before I do that...I'm going to sculpt another shrunken head.
The other day while going through some plug and patch kits, I ran across some cans of play dough (which are used for training exercises) and was overtaken by the urge to play with it. Being the only person in the office and experiencing a slow afternoon, I took my chance and spent the next 5-10 minutes quickly and skillfully sculpting a human head out of the funny-smelling blue mound of dough. My finished result bore a strong resemblance to George Washington which is odd considering when I first started kneading the dough, I had a picture of a kitty cat in my head. Founding father...kitty cat...it's amazing how ideas can evolve within a matter of minutes.
I guess that's what I like so much about play dough and clay and other things you can knead and sculpt and use to create whatever the mind can fathom. When you have a clump of some sort of molding compound...that's not a toy in front of you, that's possibilities. Taking what you have and making it into whatever you want it to be. That's often how life is. You have to take what you have in front of you and figure out how you're going to craft it into what is the most satisfying end result. And I love that. I'm in love with possibilities.
Possibilities are infinite and multidimensional. A challenge. Possibility is changing courses mid-journey (and ideally, without consquence). Or are the possibilities so enticing because you don't actually know how the end result will be and it's the mystery of it all that makes the sale. It's the mystery and the curiousity of how things could/would/should...which could probably end up falling into that "grass is always greener..." mentality. Is that possibility over there newer, fresher, and sexier than the one I've been exploring right here.
Of course, possibilities have a dark side. I could rob a bank to fund my need for adventure and material things. I could try to start something on the side with that intriguing (for the record, I'll forever loathe this word but am using it for a lack of a better one) fellow over there. I could kick that annoying person in the teeth. But when considering the possibilities, feasability and reality must be consdidered as well. And the fact of the matter is, I'd get caught robbing that bank, I'm not his type, and I'm likely useless in a fight. So, for today at least (and before I actually type the words "Life is like a Ball of Playdough"), I'll explore the simple possibilities...like cleaning my room, finishing my internship, and deciding where to spend my last year in Murray. But before I do that...I'm going to sculpt another shrunken head.
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